Jeremiah had been furious when he’d found out he had to take special sensitivity training in the wake of the DADT repeal, but considering the vitriol he regularly spewed about “fags” and “dykes” he wasn’t surprised. Still, he was confident he’d come out of it without his views changing. Gays were sinners, and that was that, in his opinion. 

He’d arrived at camp, and was assigned to a platoon of like minded associates, all of them laughing about this bullshit, but over the coming weeks, as the soldiers were beaten, broken down, and humiliated over and over again by their gay staff sergeants, they all eventually had a change of heart. A few, like Jeremiah, found that their hatred against homosexuality was actually due to their own repressed sexual desires.

On his final night, he had a private training session with Sergeant Hale, and Jeremiah spent the whole night worshiping his superior’s boots and cock, begging for more. The next day, he discovered he had been reassigned–and would continue serving under the sergeant until further notice, but Jeremiah had to call him Master from then on.

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